


Shooter

by Nightdog_Barks



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Flashback, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-29
Updated: 2006-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightdog_Barks/pseuds/Nightdog_Barks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House, in a very low place, remembers his father teaching him to shoot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shooter

**Author's Note:**

> Written immediately after the episode, in about ten minutes.

  
**STATUS:** Unpublished.  
 **TITLE:** Shooter  
 **AUTHOR:** [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/nightdog_writes/profile)[**nightdog_writes**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/nightdog_writes/)  
 **PAIRING:** House, John House, and very tangentially, Wilson.  
 **RATING:** PG-13  
 **WARNINGS:** None  
 **SPOILERS:** Yes; this takes place during "Finding Judas," which is episode 3.09.  
 **SUMMARY:** House, in a very low place, remembers his father teaching him to shoot.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** Don't own 'em. Never will.  
 **AUTHOR NOTES:** Written immediately after the episode, in about ten minutes.  
 **BETA:** Not.

  
 **Shooter**

  
When Greg was old enough to know the difference between killing for food and killing for pleasure, John House had taught his son how to shoot.

He'd put the deer rifle in Greg's hands, helping him support the heavy weight of the long gun on his arms and shoulder, showing him how to aim and put the bullet _right there,_ in the head so the animal didn't suffer.

Greg had been immediately interested, and like everything else he took an interest in, he took target practice every day. The angle, the firepower, the logistics and geometry of the shot -- they fascinated the boy. There was a Golden Mean to everything.

At first John had been pleased his difficult son was enjoying something that also happened to be his father's profession. Then he'd seen the look in his son's eyes -- the indifference to the damage done by the bullets he fired, the pure concentration on technique. John House had seen that look before, in the steady gaze of Marine snipers he had known. At last he'd taken the rifle from his son's hands. He needed to make sure of something.

"Greg," he'd said. "You do understand there's a difference between shooting an animal and shooting a man."

His son had looked up at him, those clear blue eyes open and never wavering.

"Yes sir," he said. "Of course I do."

Years later, Dr. Gregory House stands on the balcony of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, playing with his laser pointer. His life is crashing down around him. Innocent and guilty alike are being consumed in his flaming descent.

Below him, he sees Wilson, and aims the laser pointer at him. Unaware, Wilson turns away, and House pinpoints the laser on the back of Wilson's head, and his thoughts fly back to his boyhood, to the deer rifle heavy in his hands, his father's hands over his own, helping him aim.

 _Remember, son, never point your gun at anything unless you're willing to pull the trigger._

House keeps the pointer aimed at Wilson's head as the other man walks away.

 _Angles and planes,_ House thinks. _The Golden Mean._

  
~fin


End file.
